I shall
certainly sit there if I wish."
"Come, come, my dears. There is enough about it. Pray let us have supper
in peace."
"You've had a tiring day, ma'am," says Mr. Gibbon. "Let me persuade you to
have a glass of ale with your beef, to-night. Just to revive you. Forcus's
Family Ale is the finest pick-me-up."
"Reggie Forcus has ridden past three times this afternoon, mama," Bessie
informed her parent. Then turned sharply on her sister, "You were at
school, miss."
"I met him as I came away," said Deleah, seating herself at the table. "I
wish the pleasure had been yours instead of mine, Bessie."
"Did he stop to speak?"
"Of course he stopped. He always stops."
"Well?"
"He asked for you."
"He always does, I suppose?"
"Always."
"There!" said Bessie on the note of triumph, looking round.
"There!" echoed Deleah as she helped herself to the mustard Mr. Gibbon was
offering her.
"Mama, do you hear Deda? She is not to mock me."
"Bread, Miss Deleah? Pickles, Mrs. Day?" hastily interposes an obsequious
Mr. Gibbon. He was assiduous in his attentions on the ladies, ever
anxiously polite and kind. That he found his happiness among them and was
eager to gain and to retain their favour he plainly showed.
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